Staring at a spot on the floor
I want to stop thinking
but that's always the problem
my head's never empty
What if, what if, perhaps and maybe
endlessly circle, driving me crazy
in my mind I see a door
it's flung wide open, I want
to try and close that passage
its hinges are rusty
its weight defies belief
held by false hope
no stranger to feeling
wanting relief
Hope, always hope
twined all together
A rope made of hope
I find disgust with myself
with the way that I feel
it's all in my head
I'll never be real